Six people were killed: two 7-year-old boys, the school custodian, the man who carried some explosives into the school, the bomber’s own child, and a teacher.

Nineteen others were injured, most of them children, but also the school principal, Mrs. R. E. Doty, whose leg was broken. All eventually recovered, though two 7-year-olds each lost a leg.

About 125 pupils were on the school playground, in physical education classes, when the explosion occurred.

At the Chronicle, word came just seven minutes before the deadline for the first home-delivered edition, but two hours and 37 minutes before the second edition, allowing enough time to gather stories and get pictures.

An eight-column two-line headline screamed: “POE SCHOOL BLAST SET OFF BY MAD BOMBER KILLS SIX.”

On the front page were a six-column photo of the sheet-covered bodies of three victims in the playground, a list of the known injured and an eyewitness account, told in first person. On inside pages were several more photographs and other stories.

The bomber, Paul Orgeron, 49, a three-time convict and tile-setter, of South Houston, arrived at the school with a suitcase crammed with dynamite. With him was his son, 7-year-old Dusty Paul.

Found on the playground later was a rambling note, believed to have been written by Orgeron, alluding to marital problems. Members of his family said Orgeron recently had been obsessed with religion, and claimed that he had been talking with God.

“He never did that before. He hated God, but when I saw him the last time . . . he said, ‘You can’t do nothing without God,’ ” one relative said.

Within hours of the explosion, six other Houston schools received telephoned threats of impending explosions. None materialized.

One of the Chronicle’s front-page stories quoted a witness, Weldon Appelt, president of an engineering company, who was driving past the school in a car when the explosion occurred.

“One boy was completely devoid of clothes. A little girl had been blown over 100 feet. There were pieces of flesh everywhere, and bits of clothes scattered all over. The children looked like animals which had just been dressed out.”

Appelt also praised the speed and efficiency of teachers at the school.

Cora Bryan McRae, a former Chronicle reporter who lived near the school, said the scene was “too horrible to describe. They are mangled horribly.”

A police chemist estimated that Orgeron had carried six sticks of dynamite in the suitcase to the school. Another stick was found later in Orgeron’s car.

One of the children at the school said Orgeron talked with her before he detonated the explosives. She quoted him as saying: “If they won’t take my son in this school, I’ll press a button and blow the whole place up.”

Principal Doty said that Orgeron had come to her office earlier in the day, carrying a suitcase and accompanied by a 7-year-old boy. Doty told Orgeron he would have to register the child to enroll him in the school. He left, Doty said, but a few minutes later she received a report about a man acting strangely on the school playground.

Doty went outside and told the man he would have to leave, but he refused. Seconds later, he set off the dynamite.

The first doctor on the scene was the father of three Poe children who had been backing his car out of his driveway when he heard the explosion.

“Not knowing whether his children were among the blast victims, the doctor immediately began administering first aid to the injured children who lay crying on the playground,” the Chronicle story said.

“Finally he met a neighbor who told him that his two daughters, 10 and 8, and son, 6, were all safe.”

In keeping with Chronicle policy in those days, the name of the doctor was not published.

The doctor described Principal Doty as “the epitome of calm” despite her own injuries. She lay on the ground, giving teachers instructions, ignoring her own pain, he said.

Doty, who had been with the Houston schools for 40 years and had been a teacher and principal at Montrose Elementary School, had been principal at Poe for nine years.

The next day’s Chronicle reported that classes had resumed. A sidebar profiling the bomber began: “Insanity -- and the death wish -- lurked deep in the murky, twisted mind of Paul Harold Orgeron.”

The story went on to quote what family members told police about him:

“Was kind to animals.

“Loved children, and didn’t believe in spanking them.

“Beat his wife.

Didn’t drink and hated people who did.

“Was ignorant, but proud, and taught himself to read, write and figure. He quit school in the second grade. ...